FOOTNOTE
[11] The Ortolan figures in a curious anecdote of individual epicurism in the last century. A gentleman of Gloucestershire had one son, whom he sent abroad to make the grand tour of the Continent, where he paid more attention to the cookery of nations, and luxurious living, than anything else. Before his return his father died and left him a large fortune. He now looked over his note-book to discover where the most exquisite dishes were to be had, and the best cooks obtained. Every servant in his house was a cook; his butler, footman, coachman, and grooms—all were cooks. He had also three Italian cooks—one from Florence, another from Vienna, and another from Viterbo—for dressing one Florentine dish. He had a messenger constantly on the road between Brittany and London to bring the eggs of a certain kind of plover found in the former country. This prodigal was known to eat a single dinner at the expense of 70l., though there were but two dishes. In nine years he found himself getting poor, and this made him melancholy. When totally ruined, having spent 150,000l., a friend one day gave him a guinea to keep him from starving, and he was found in a garret next day broiling an Ortolan, for which he had paid a portion of the alms.
TALK ABOUT TOUCANS.
THE Toucans, a family of climbing-birds of tropical America, appear to have been known in Europe by the length and great size of their bills, long before the birds themselves found their way to England. Belon, in 1555, described the bill of one of the family as half a foot long, large as a child's arm, pointed, and black at the tip, white elsewhere, notched on the edges, hollow within, and so finely delicate as to be transparent and thin as parchment; and its beauty caused it to be kept in the cabinets of the curious. For more than a century after Belon's work, the birds themselves had not been seen in England; for, in the Museum Tradescantianum, the standard collection of the time, and which, from the list of contributors, appears to have been the great receptacle for all curiosities, we read of an "Azacari (or Toucan) of Brazil; has his beak four inches long, almost two thick, like a Turk's sword" (A.D. 1656). From this description Tradescant knew the nature of the bird, if he had not seen it.
Mr. Swainson states, that the enormous bills give to these birds a most singular and uncouth appearance. Their feet are formed like those of the parrot, more for grasping than climbing; and as they live among trees, and proceed by hopping from branch to branch, their grasping feature is particularly adapted for such habits. They live retired in the deep forests, mostly in small companies. Their flight is strait and laborious, but not graceful; while their movements, as they glide rather than hop from branch to branch, are elegant.
Mr. Gould, in his grand Monograph of the Toucans, or Ramphastidæ, remarks, that it was only within a few years of the time of Linnæus that actual specimens of the Toucan had been received in Europe. The beaks, however, of these birds, regarded as curiosities, had occasionally found their way to our shores, and had occasioned some curious conjectures. The earliest shape resembled a Turkish scimitar.
The Toucans (a word derived from their Brazilian name, Taca, Tucà) received from Linnæus the title of Ramphastos, in allusion to the great volume of the beak (Ραμφος), a family (Ramphastidæ). In some respects, indeed, they resemble the Hornbills in the development of the beak. The Toucans may be said to represent in America the Hornbills in India and Africa. Large as is the beak of the Toucan compared with the size of the body, it is in reality very light. Its outer sheathing is somewhat elastic, very thin, smooth, and semi-transparent; and the interior consists of a maze of delicate cells, throughout which the olfactory nerves are multitudinously distributed. The nostrils are basal, the edges of each mandible are serrated, and the colouring of the whole beak is bright, rich, and often relieved by contrasted markings. But these tints begin to fade after death, and become ultimately dissipated. The eyes are surrounded by a considerable space of naked skin, often very richly tinted. The tongue is very long, slender, horizontally flattened, pointed, and, except at its base, horny; it is fringed or feathered along each side. The wings are short, concave, and comparatively feeble.
The tail is variable, equal and squared; it is remarkable for the facility with which it can be retroverted or turned up, so as to lie upon the back. This peculiarity results from a modification of structure in the caudal vertebræ, which enables the tail to turn with a jerk by the action of certain muscles, as if it were fixed on a hinge put into action by means of a spring. When the retroversion is accomplished, the muscles which caused it become passive, and offer no resistance to their antagonists, which restore the tail to its ordinary direction. When they sleep they puff out their plumage, they retrovert the tail over the back, draw the head between the shoulders; the bill begins to turn over the right shoulder, and becomes at last buried in the plumage of the back; at the same time the pinions of the wings droop, and conceal the feet. The bird now resembles an oval ball of puffed-up feathers, and is well protected against the cold.
Toucans utter, from time to time, harsh, clattering, and discordant cries. "Some," says Mr. Gould, "frequent the humid woods of the temperate regions, while others resort to comparatively colder districts, and dwell at an elevation of from six to ten thousand feet. Those inhabiting the lofty regions are generically different from those residing in the low lands, and are clothed in a more thick and sombre-coloured plumage. All the members of the Hill-Toucans are distinguished by their bills being strong, heavy, and hard, when compared with those of the true Toucans and Araçaris, all of which have their bills of a more delicate structure, and in several species so thin and elastic on the sides as to be compressible between the fingers." Their food in a state of nature consists of fruit, eggs, and nestling birds; to which, in domestication, are added small birds, mice, caterpillars, and raw flesh. They incubate in the hollows of gigantic trees.
Faber was told by Fryer, Alaysa, and other Spaniards who had lived long in America, and also by the Indians, that the Toucan even hews out holes in trees, in which to nidify; and Oviedo adds, that it is from this habit of chipping the trees that the bird is called by the Spaniards Carpintero, and by the Brazilians Tacataca, in imitation, apparently, of the sound it thus makes.
The larger feed upon bananas and other succulent plants; the smaller upon the smaller fruits and berries. Prince Maximilian de Wied states, that in Brazil he found only the remains of fruits in their stomachs, and adds, that they make sad havoc among plantations of fruit-trees. He was informed, however, that they steal and eat birds, but never himself saw them in the act. They abound in the vast forests, and are killed in great number in the cooler season in the year for the purposes of the table. In their manners the Toucans resemble the Crow tribe, and especially the Magpies: like them, they are very troublesome to the birds of prey, particularly to the Owls, which they surround, making a great noise, all the while jerking their tails upwards and downwards. Their feathers, especially from their yellow breasts, are used by the Indians for personal decoration.
Azara states that they attack even the solid nests of the white ants, when the clay of which their nests are formed becomes moistened with the rain; they break them up with their beaks, so as to obtain the young ants and their eggs; and during the breeding season the Toucan feeds upon nothing else; during the rest of the year he subsists upon fruit, insects, and the buds of trees.
Edwards, in his voyage up the Amazon, observes, that when a party of Toucans alight on a tree, one usually acts the part of a sentinel, uttering the loud cry of "Tucano," whence they derive their name; the others disperse over the branches in search of fruit. While feeding they keep up a hoarse chattering, and at intervals unite with the noisy sentry, and scream a concert that may be heard a mile. Having appeased their appetites, they seek the depths of a forest, and there quietly doze away the noon. In early morning a few of them may be seen sitting quietly upon the branches of some dead tree, apparently awaiting the coming sunlight before starting for their feeding-trees.
Some species of Toucans have been seen quarrelling with monkeys over a nest of eggs. Their carnivorous propensity has been strikingly shown in the specimens which have been kept in England. On the approach of any small bird the Toucan becomes highly excited, raises itself up, erects its feathers, and utters a hollow clattering sound, the irides of the eyes expand, and the Toucan is ready to dart on its prey. A Toucan, exhibited in St. Martin's-lane in 1824, seized and devoured a canary-bird. Next day Mr. Broderip tried him with a live goldfinch. The Toucan seized it with the beak, and the poor little victim uttered a short weak cry, for within a second it was dead, killed by the powerful compression of the mandibles. The Toucan now placed the dead bird firmly between its foot and the perch, stripped off the feathers with its bill, and then broke the bones of the wings and legs, by strongly wrenching them, the bird being still secured by the Toucan's foot. He then continued to work with great dexterity till he had reduced the goldfinch to a shapeless mass. This he devoured piece by piece with great gusto, not even leaving the legs or the beak of his prey: to each morsel he applied his tongue as he masticated it, chattering and shivering with delight. He never used his foot, but his bill, for conveying his food to his mouth by the sides of the bill.
Mr. Swainson remarks:—"The apparent disproportion of the bill is one of the innumerable instances of that beautiful adaptation of structure to use which the book of nature everywhere reveals. The food of these birds consists principally of the eggs and young of others, to discover which nature has given them the most exquisite powers of smell." Again, the nests in which the Toucan finds its food are often very deep and dark, and its bill, covered with branches of nerves, enables the bird to feel its way as accurately as the finest and most delicate finger could. From its feeding on eggs found in other birds' nests, it has been called the Egg-sucker. Probably there is no bird which secures her young offspring better from the monkeys, which are very noisome to the young of most birds. For when she perceives the approach of these enemies she so settles herself in her nest as to put her bill out at the hole, and give the monkeys such a welcome therewith that they presently break away, and are glad to escape.
Professor Owen, in his minute examination of the mandibles, remarks that the principle of the cylinder is introduced into the elaborate structure; the smallest of the supporting pillars of the mandibles are seen to be hollow or tubular when examined with the microscope.
Light and almost diaphonous as is the bill of the Toucan, its strength and the power of the muscles, which act upon the mandibles, are evident in the wrenching and masticatory processes. When taking fruit, the Toucan generally holds it for a short time at the extremity of his bill, applying to it, with apparent delight, the pointed tip of the slender tongue: the bird then throws it, with a sudden upward jerk, to the throat, where it is caught and instantly swallowed.
Mr. Gould divides the Toucans into six genera. 1. The true Toucans, with large and gaily-coloured bills, plumage black. 2. The Araçaris, with smaller beaks, plumage green, yellow, and red. 3. The Banded Aracauris, an Amazonian genus, proposed by Prince C. L. Bonaparte. 4. Toucanets, small, with crescent of yellow on the back, and brilliant orange and yellow ear-coverts. 5. Hill Toucans of the Andes. 6. Groove-bills, grass-green plumage.
A very fine true Toucan, figured by Mr. Gould, is remarkable for the splendour and size of the bill, of a fine orange-red, with a large black patch on each side. Powder-flasks are made of large and finely-coloured bills. The naked skin round the eye is bright orange. The chest is white, with a tinge of sulphur below, and a slight scarlet margin. Upper tail-coverts, white; under tail-coverts, scarlet; the rest of the plumage, black. Several specimens of this beautiful bird lived both in the menagerie of the late Earl of Derby, at Knowsley, and in the gardens of the Zoological Society. It is a native of Cayenne, Paraguay, &c.
Toucans in their manners are gentle and confident, exhibiting no alarm at strangers, and are as playful as magpies or jackdaws; travellers assure us that they may be taught tricks and feats like parrots; and although they cannot imitate the human voice, they show considerable intelligence. One of the Toucanets is named from Mr. Gould, the plates in whose monograph, from their size, beauty, and accuracy, have all the air of portraits.
ECCENTRICITIES OF PENGUINS.
THIS group of amphibious birds, though powerless in the wing as an organ of flight, are assisted by it as a species of fin in their rapid divings and evolutions under water, and even as a kind of anterior of extremity when progressing on the land. Their lot has been wisely cast on those desolate southern islands and shores where man rarely intrudes, and in many instances where a churlish climate or a barren soil offers no temptations to him to invade their territory.
Le Vaillant, when on Dassen Island, found that the smaller crevices of the rocks served as places of retreat for Penguins, which swarmed there. "This bird," says Le Vaillant, which is about two feet in length, "does not carry its body in the same manner as others: it stands perpendicularly on its two feet, which gives it an air of gravity, so much the more ridiculous as its wings, which have no feathers, hang carelessly down on each side; it never uses them but in swimming. As we advanced towards the middle of the island we met innumerable troops of them. Standing firm and erect on their legs, these animals never deranged themselves in the least to let us pass; they more particularly surrounded the mausoleum, and seemed as if determined to prevent us from approaching it. All the environs were entirely beset with them. Nature had done more for the plain tomb of the poor Danish captain than what proceeds from the imaginations of poets or the chisels of our artists. The hideous owl, however well sculptured in our churches, has not half so dead and melancholy an air as the Penguin. The mournful cries of this animal, mixed with those of the sea-calf, impressed on my mind a kind of gloom which much disposed me to tender sensations of sadness. My eyes were sometime fixed on the last abode of the unfortunate traveller, and I gave his manes the tribute of a sigh."
Sir John Narborough says of the Patagonian Penguins that their erect attitude and bluish-black backs, contrasted with their white bellies, might cause them to be taken at a distance for young children with white pinafores on. A line of them is engraved in Webster's "Voyage of the Chanticleer," and reminds us of one of the woodcuts in Hood's "Comic Annual."
The "towns, camps, and rookeries," as they have been called, of Penguins have been often described. At the Falkland Islands are assemblies of Penguins, which give a dreary desolation to the place, in the utter absence of the human race. In some of the towns voyagers describe a general stillness, and when the intruders walked among the feathered population to provide themselves with eggs, they were regarded with side-long glances, but they seemed to carry no terror with them. In many places the shores are covered with these birds, and three hundred have been taken within an hour; for they generally make no effort to escape, but stand quietly by whilst their companions are knocked down with sticks, till it comes to their turn.
The rookeries are described as designed with the utmost order and regularity, though they are the resort of several different species. A regular camp, often covering three or four acres, is laid out and levelled, and the ground disposed in squares for the nests, as accurately as if a surveyor had been employed. Their marchings and countermarchings are said to remind the observer of the manœuvres of soldiers on parade. In the midst of this apparent order there appears to be not very good government, for the stronger species steal the eggs of the weaker if they are left unguarded; and the King Penguin is the greatest thief of all. Three species are found in the Falkland Islands. Two, the Kings and the Macaroni, deposit their eggs in these rookeries. The Jackass, which is the third, obtained its English name from its brayings at night. It makes its nests in burrows on downs and sandy plains; and Forster describes the ground as everywhere so much bored, that a person, in walking, often sinks up to the knees; and if the Penguin chance to be in her hole, she revenges herself on the passenger by fastening on his legs, which she bites very hard.
But these rookeries are insignificant when compared with a settlement of King Penguins, which Mr. G. Bennett saw at the north end of Macquarrie Island, in the South Pacific Ocean—a colony of these birds, which covered some thirty or forty acres. Here, during the whole of the day and night, 30,000 or 40,000 Penguins are continually landing, and an equal number going to sea. They are ranged, when on shore, in as regular ranks as a regiment of soldiers, and are classed, the young birds in one situation, the moulting birds in another, the sitting hens in a third, the clean birds in a fourth, &c.; and so strictly do birds in a similar condition congregate, that, should a moulting bird intrude itself among those which are clean, it is immediately ejected from them. The females, if approached during incubation, move away, carrying their eggs with them. At this time the male bird goes to sea, and collects food for the female, which becomes very fat.
Captain Fitzroy describes, at Noir Island, multitudes of Penguins swarming among the bushes and tussac-grass near the shore, for moulting and rearing their young. They were very valiant in self-defence, and ran open-mouthed by dozens at any one who invaded their territory. The manner of feeding their young is amusing. The old bird gets on a little eminence and makes a loud noise, between quacking and braying, holding its head up as if haranguing the Penguinnery, the young one standing close to it, but a little lower. The old bird then puts down its head, and opens its mouth widely, into which the young one thrusts its head, and then appears to suck from the throat of its mother; after which the clatter is repeated, and the young one is again fed: this continues for about ten minutes.
Mr. Darwin, having placed himself between a Penguin, on the Falkland Islands, and the water, was much amused by watching its habits. "It was a brown bird," says Mr. Darwin, "and, till reaching the sea, it regularly fought and drove me backwards. Nothing less than heavy blows would have stopped him: every inch gained, he firmly kept standing close before me, erect and determined. When thus opposed, he continually rolled his head from side to side in a very odd manner. While at sea, and undisturbed, this bird's note is very deep and solemn, and is often heard in the night time. In diving, its little plumeless wings are used as fins, but on the land as front legs. When crawling (it may be said on four legs) through the tussacks, or on the side of a grassy cliff, it moved so very quickly that it might readily have been mistaken for a quadruped. When at sea, and fishing, it comes to the surface for the purpose of breathing with such a spring, and dives again so instantaneously, that I defy any one, at first sight, to be sure that it is not a fish leaping for sport."
Bougainville endeavoured to bring home a Penguin alive. It became so tame that it followed the person who fed it; it ate bread, flesh, or fish; but it fell away and died. The four-footed Duck of Gesner might have owed its origin to an ill-preserved Penguin. The notion of its being four-footed might have been fortified by some voyager who had seen the bird making progress as Mr. Darwin has above described.
Mr. Webster describes the feathers of Penguins as very different from those of other birds, being short, very rigid, and the roots deeply embedded in fat. They are, in general, flat, and bent backwards, those on the breast being of a satin or silky white, and those on the flippers so short and small as to approach the nature of scales, overlaying each other very closely. The skins are loaded with fat. Their feet are not regularly webbed, but present a broad, fleshy surface, more adapted for walking than swimming. Mr. Webster saw great numbers of Penguins on Staten Island. They are the only genus of the feathered race that are there, and live in the water, like seals. He saw them at the distance of 200 miles from the land, swimming with the rapidity of the dolphin, the swiftest of fishes. When they come up to the surface for fresh breath, they make a croaking noise, dip their beaks frequently in the water, and play and dive about near the surface, like the bonita. Penguins have great powers of abstinence, and are able to live four or five months without food. Stones have been occasionally found in their stomachs, but they generally live on shrimps and crustacea, gorging themselves sometimes to excess. The sensations of these curious birds do not seem to be very acute. Sparrman stumbled over a sleeping one, and kicked it some yards, without disturbing its rest; and Forster left a number of Penguins apparently lifeless, while he went in pursuit of others, but they afterwards got up and marched off with their usual gravity.
The bird is named from the Welsh word, Pengwyn. White head (pen, head; gwyn, white), and is thought to have been given to the bird by some Welsh sailors, on seeing its white breast. Davis, who discovered, in 1585, the straits which are named after him, was of Welsh parents. Might he not have given the name Pengwyn to the bird? Swainson considers the Penguins, on the whole, as the most singular of all aquatic birds; and he states that they clearly point out that nature is about to pass from the birds to the fishes. Others consider Penguins more satisfactorily to represent some of the aquatic reptiles, especially the marine testudinata.
PELICANS AND CORMORANTS.
PELICANS Pelicans are described as a large, voracious, and wandering tribe of birds, living for the most part on the ocean, and seldom approaching land but at the season of incubation. They fly with ease, and even with swiftness. Their bill is long, and armed at the end with an abrupt hook; the width of the gape is excessive; the face is generally bare of feathers, and the skin of the throat sometimes so extensible as to hang down like a bag; it will occasionally contain ten quarts. "By this curious organization," observes Swainson, "the Pelicans are able to swallow fish of a very large size; and the whole family may be termed oceanic vultures."
The neighbourhood of rivers, lakes, and the sea-coast, is the haunt of the Pelican, and they are rarely seen more than twenty leagues from the land. Le Vaillant, upon visiting Dassen Island, at the entrance of Saldanha Bay, beheld, as he says, after wading through the surf, and clambering up the rocks, such a spectacle as never, perhaps, appeared to the eye of mortal. "All of a sudden there arose from the whole surface of the island an impenetrable cloud, which formed, at the distance of forty feet above our heads, an immense canopy, or, rather, a sky, composed of birds of every species and of all colours—cormorants, sea-gulls, sand-swallows, and, I believe, the whole winged tribe of this part of Africa, were here assembled." The same traveller found on the Klein-Brak river, whilst waiting for the ebb-tide, thousands of Pelicans and Flamingoes, the deep rose-colour of the one strongly contrasting with the white of the other.
Mr. Gould says the bird is remarkable for longevity and the long period requisite for the completion of its plumage. The first year's dress is wholly brown, then fine white. The rosy tints are only acquired as the bird advances in age, and five years are required before the Pelican becomes fully mature. The expanse of wings is from twelve to thirteen feet. Although the bird perches on trees, it prefers rocky shores. It is found in the Oriental countries of Europe; and is common on the rivers and lakes of Hungary and Russia, and on the Danube. That the species exists in Asia there is no doubt. Belon, who refers to Leviticus xi. 18, where the bird is noted as unclean, says that it is frequent on the lakes of Egypt and Judæa. "When he was passing the plain of Roma, which is only half a day's journey from Jerusalem, he saw them flying in pairs, like swans, as well as in a large flock. Hasselquist saw the Pelican at Damietta, in Egypt. "In flying, they form an acute angle, like the common wild geese when they migrate. They appear in some of the Egyptian drawings."—(Rossellini.)
Von Siebold saw the Pelican in Japan. "Pelicans," says Dr. Richardson, "are numerous in the interior of the fur countries, but they seldom come within two hundred miles of Hudson's Bay. They deposit their eggs usually on small rocky islands, on the brink of cascades, where they can scarcely be approached; but they are otherwise by no means shy birds. They haunt eddies under waterfalls, and devour great quantities of carp and other fish. When gorged with food they doze on the water, and may be easily captured, as they have great difficulty in taking wing at such times, particularly if their pouches be loaded with fish."
The bird builds on rocky and desert shores: hence we read of "the Pelican of the wilderness," alluded to in these beautiful lines:—
"Like the Pelicans
On that lone island where they built their nests,
Nourish'd their young, and then lay down to die."
The bird lives on fish, which it darts upon from a considerable height. James Montgomery thus describes this mode of taking their prey:—
"Eager for food, their searching eyes they fix'd
On Ocean's unroll'd volume, from a height
That brought immensity within their scope;
Yet with such power of vision look'd they down,
As though they watch'd the shell-fish slowly gliding
O'er sunken rocks, or climbing trees of coral.
On indefatigable wing upheld,
Breath, pulse, existence, seem'd suspended in them;
They were as pictures painted on the sky;
Till suddenly, aslant, away they shot,
Like meteors chang'd from stars in gleams of lightning,
And struck upon the deep; where, in wild play,
Their quarry flounder'd, unsuspecting harm.
With terrible voracity they plunged
Their heads among the affrighted shoals, and beat
A tempest on the surges with their wings,
Till flashing clouds of foam and spray conceal'd them.
Nimbly they seized and secreted their prey,
Alive and wriggling, in th' elastic net
Which Nature hung beneath their grasping beaks;
Till, swoll'n with captures, th' unwieldy burthen
Clogg'd their slow flight, as heavily to land
These mighty hunters of the deep return'd.
There on the cragged cliffs they perched at ease,
Gorging their hapless victims one by one;
Then, full and weary, side by side they slept,
Till evening roused them to the chase again."
Pelican Island.
Great numbers of Pelicans are killed for their pouches, which are converted by the native Americans into purses, &c. When carefully prepared, the membrane is as soft as silk, and sometimes embroidered by Spanish ladies for work-bags, &c. It is used in Egypt by the sailors, whilst attached to the two under chaps, for holding or baling water.
With the Pelican has been associated an old popular error, which has not long disappeared from books of information: it is that of the Pelican feeding her young with her blood. In reference to the actual economy of the Pelican, we find that, in feeding the nestlings—and the male is said to supply the wants of the female, when sitting, in the same manner—the under mandible is pressed against the neck and breast, to assist the bird in disgorging the contents of the capacious pouch; and during this action the red nail of the upper mandible would appear to come in contact with the breast, thus laying the foundation, in all probability, for the fable that the Pelican nourishes her young with her blood, and for the attitude in which the imagination of painters has placed the bird in books of emblems, &c., with the blood spirting from the wounds made by the terminating nail of the upper mandible into the gaping mouths of her offspring.
Sir Thomas Browne, in his "Vulgar Errors," says:—"In every place we meet with the picture of the Pelican opening her breast with her bill, and feeding her young ones with the blood distilling from her. Thus it is set forth, not only in common signs, but in the crest and scutcheon of many noble families; hath been asserted by many holy writers, and was an hieroglyphic of piety and pity among the Egyptians; on which consideration they spared them at their tables."
Sir Thomas refers this popular error to an exaggerated description of the Pelican's fondness for her young, and is inclined to accept it as an emblem "in coat-armour," though with great doubt.
In "A Choice of Emblems and other Devices," by Geoffrey Whitney, are these lines:—
"The Pelican, for to revive her younge,
Doth pierce her breste, and geve them of her blood.
Then searche your breste, and as you have with tonge,
With penne procede to do your countrie good:
Your zeal is great, your learning is profounde;
Then help our wantes with that you do abound."
In George Wither's "Emblems," 1634, we find:—
"Our Pelican, by bleeding thus,
Fulfill'd the law, and cured us."
Shakspeare, in "Hamlet," thus alludes to the popular notion:—
"To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms;
And like the kind, life-rendering Pelican,
Repast them with my blood."
In a holier light, this symbol signifies the Saviour giving Himself up for the redemption of mankind. In Lord Lindsay's "Christian Art," vols. i., xx., xxi., we find in the text, "God the Son (is symbolized) by a Pelican—'I am like a Pelican of the wilderness.' (Psalm cii. 6.)" To which is added the following note:—"The mediæval interpretation of this symbol is given by Sir David Lindsay, of the Mount, Lion King, nephew of the poet, in his MS. 'Collectanea,' preserved in the Advocates' Library. Edinburgh."
Sir Thomas Browne hints at the probability of the Pelican occasionally nibbling or biting itself on the itching part of its breast, upon fulness or acrimony of blood, so as to tinge the feathers in that part. Such an instance is recorded by Mr. G. Bennett of a Pelican living at Dulwich, which wounded itself just above the breast; but no such act has been observed among the Pelicans kept in the menagerie of the Zoological Society or elsewhere; and the instance just recorded was probably caused by local irritation.
Of the same genus as the Pelican is the Cormorant, an inhabitant of Europe generally and of America. It swims very deep in the water; even in the sea very little more than the neck and head are visible above the surface. It is a most expert diver, pursuing the fish which forms its food with great activity under water; it is said to be very fond of eels. It perches on trees, where it occasionally builds its nests, but it mostly selects rocky shores and islands. Upon the Fern Islands its nest is composed of a mass of sea-weed, frequently heaped up to the height of two feet. The species is easily domesticated; and its docility is shown by the use often made of Cormorants in fishing. Willughby, quoting Faber, says:—"They are wont in England to train up Cormorants to fishing. When they carry them out of the room where they are kept they take off their hoods, and having tied a leather thong round the lower part of their necks, that they may not swallow down the fish they catch, they throw them into the river. They presently dive under water, and there for a long time, with wonderful swiftness, pursue the fish, and when they have caught them they arise presently to the top of the water, and pressing the fish tightly with the bills, they swallow them, till each bird hath after this manner devoured five or six fishes. Then their keepers call them to the fish, to which they readily fly, and little by little, one after another, vomit up all the fish, a little bruised with the nip they gave them with their bills." When they have done fishing they loosen the string from the birds' necks, and for their reward they throw them part of the prey they have caught, to each, perchance, one or two fishes, which they catch most dexterously in their mouths as they are falling in the air. Pennant quotes Whitelock, who said that he had a cast of them, manned like hawks, and which would come to hand. He took much pleasure in them, and relates that the best he had was one presented him by Mr. Wood, master of the corvorants (as the older name was) to Charles I. Pennant adds, it is well known that the Chinese make great use of a congenerous sort in fishing, and that not for amusement but profit.
Sir George Staunton, in his account of his Embassy to China, describes the place where the Leu-tze, or famed fishing-bird of China, is bred and instructed in the art and practice of supplying his owner with fish in great abundance. The bird, a Cormorant, is figured in Sir George's work, with two Chinese fishermen carrying their light boat, around the gunnel of which their Cormorants are perched by a pole resting on their shoulders between them. On a large lake are thousands of small boats and rafts built entirely for this species of fishery. On each boat or raft are ten or a dozen birds, which, on a signal from the owner, plunge into the water; and it is astonishing to see the enormous size of fish with which they return grasped between their bills. They appeared to be so well trained that it did not require either ring or cord about their throats to prevent them from swallowing any portion of their prey except what the master was pleased to return to them for encouragement and food. The boat used by these fishermen is remarkably light, and is often carried to the lake, together with the fishing-birds, by the men who are there to be supported by it.
Belon gives an amusing account of the chase of this bird during calms, especially in the neighbourhood of Venice: the hunt is carried on in very light boats, each of which being rowed by five or six men, darts along the sea like the bolt from an arbalest, till the poor Cormorant, who is shot at with bows as soon as he puts his head above water, and cannot take flight after diving to suffocation, is taken quite tired out by his pursuers.
Cormorant fishing has occasionally been reintroduced upon our rivers. In 1848 there were brought from Holland four tame Cormorants, which had been trained to the Chinese mode of fishing. Upon one occasion they fished three miles on a river, and caught a pannier-full of trout and eels. A ring placed round their necks to prevent them from swallowing large fish, but which leaves them at liberty to gulp down anything not exceeding the size of a gudgeon. The birds on these occasions are put into such parts of the river as are known to be favourite haunts of fish; and their activity under water in pursuit of fish can be compared to nothing so appropriate as a swallow darting after a fly.
Blumenbach tells us the Cormorant occasionally increases in a few years to many thousands on coasts where it was previously unknown. It varies much both in size and colour. The late Joshua Brookes, the surgeon, possessed a Cormorant, which he presented to the Zoological Society.
The Cormorant has a small sabre-shaped bone at the back of its vertex; which bone may serve as a lever in throwing back the head, when the animal tosses the fishes into the air and catches them in its open mouth. The same motion is, however, performed by some piscivorous birds, which are not provided with this particular bone.
Aubrey, in his "Natural History of Wilts," quotes the following weather presage from May's "Virgil's Georgics":—
"The seas are ill to sailors evermore
When Cormorants fly crying to the shore."
TALKING BIRDS, ETC.
CERTAIN birds are known to utter strange sounds, the origin of which has much puzzled the ornithologists. The Brown Owl which hoots, is hence called the Screech Owl: a musical friend of Gilbert White tried all the Owls that were his near neighbours with a pitch-pipe set at a concert pitch, and found they all hooted in B flat; and he subsequently found that neither Owls nor Cuckoos keep to one note. The Whidah Bird, one of the most costly of cage-birds, rattles its tail-feathers with a noise somewhat resembling that made by the rattle-snake. The Chinese Starling, in China called Longuoy, in captivity is very teachable, imitating words, and even whistling tunes: we all remember Sterne's Starling. The Piping Crow, to be seen in troops in the Blue Mountains, is named from its ready mimicry of other birds: its imitation of the chucking and cackling of a hen and the crowing of a cock, as well as its whistling of tunes, are described as very perfect: its native note is said to be a loud whistle. The Blue Jay turns his imitative faculty to treacherous account: he so closely imitates the St. Domingo Falcon as to deceive even those acquainted with both birds; and the Falcon no sooner appears in their neighbourhood than the jays swarm around him and insult him with their imitative cries; for which they frequently fall victims to his appetite. The Bullfinch, according to Blumenbach, learns to whistle tunes, to sing in parts, and even to pronounce words. The note of the Crowned Crane has been compared by Buffon to the hoarseness of a trumpet; it also clucks like a hen. Mr. Wallace, in his "Travels on the Amazon," saw a bird about the size and colour of the Raven, which uttered a loud, hoarse cry, like some deep musical instrument, whence its Indian name, Ueramioube, Trumpet Bird: it inhabits the flooded islands of the Rio Negro and the Solimoes, never appearing on the mainland. [12] The only sound produced by Storks is by snapping their bills. The Night Heron is called the Qua Bird; from its note Qua.
The Bittern, the English provincial names of which are the Mire-drum, Bull of the Bog, &c., is so called for the bellowing or drumming noise or booming for which the bird is so famous. This deep note of the "hollow-sounding Bittern" is exerted on the ground at the breeding season, about February or March. As the day declines he leaves his haunt, and, rising spirally, soars to a great height in the twilight. Willughby says that it performs this last-mentioned feat in the autumn, "making a singular kind of noise, nothing like to lowing." Bewick says that it soars as above described when it changes its haunts. Ordinarily it flies heavily, like the Heron, uttering from time to time a resounding cry, not bellowing; and then Willughby, who well describes the bellowing noise of the breeding season, supposes it to be the Night Raven, at whose "deadly voice" the superstitious wayfarer of the night turned pale and trembled. "This, without doubt," writes Willughby, "is that bird our common people call the Night Raven, and have such a dread of, imagining its cry portends no less than their death or the death of some of their near relations; for it flies in the night, answers their description of being like a flagging collar, and hath such a kind of hooping cry as they talk of." Others, with some reason, consider the Qua Bird already mentioned (which utters a loud and most disagreeable noise when on the wing, conveying the idea of the agonies of a person attempting to vomit) to be the true Night Raven. The Bittern was well known to the ancients, and Aristotle mentions the fable of its origin from staves metamorphosed into birds. The long claw of the hind toe is much prized as a toothpick, and in the olden times it was thought to have the property of preserving the teeth.
The Greater-billed Butcher Bird, from New Holland, has extraordinary powers of voice: it is trained for catching small birds, and it is said to imitate the notes of some other birds by way of decoying them to their destruction.
The mere imitative sounds of Parrots are of little interest compared with the instances of instinct, apparently allied to reason, which are related of individuals. Of this tribe the distinguishing characteristics are a hooked bill, the upper mandible of which is moveable as well as the lower, and not in one piece with the skull, as in most other birds, but joined to the head by a strong membrane, with which the bird lifts it or lets it fall at pleasure. The bill is also round on the outside and hollow within, and has, in some degree, the capacity of a mouth, allowing the tongue, which is thick and fleshy, to play freely; while the sound, striking against the circular border of the lower mandible, reflects it like a palate: hence the animal does not utter a whistling sound, but a full articulation. The tongue, which modulates all sounds, is proportionally larger than in man.
The Wild Swan has a very loud call, and utters a melancholy cry when one of the flock is killed; hence it was said by the poets to sing its own dying dirge. Such was the popular belief in olden times; and, looking to the anatomical characteristics of the species, it was, in some degree, supported by the more inflated wind-pipe of the wild when compared with that of the tame species. The Song of the Swan is, however, irreconcileable with sober belief, the only noise of the Wild Swan of our times being unmelodious, and an unpleasing monotony.
The Laughing Goose is named from its note having some resemblance to the laugh of man; and not, as Wilson supposes, from the grinning appearance of its mandibles. The Indians imitate its cry by moving the hand quickly against the lips, whilst they repeat the syllable wah.
The Cuckoo may be said to have done much for musical science, because from that bird has been derived the minor scale, the origin of which has puzzled so many; the Cuckoo's couplet being the minor third sung downwards.
The Germans are the finest appreciators of the Nightingale; and it is a fact, that when the Prussian authorities, under pecuniary pressure, were about to cut down certain trees near Cologne, which were frequented by Nightingales, the alarmed citizens purchased the trees in order to save the birds and keep their music. Yet one would think the music hardly worth having, if it really sounded as it looks upon paper, transcribed thus by Bechstein, from whom it is quoted by Broderip:—
Zozozozozozozozozozozozo zirrhading
Hezezezezezezezezezezezezezezeze cowar ho dze hoi
Higaigaigaigaigaigaigaigaigaigai, guaiagai coricor dzio dzio pi. [13]
M. Wichterich, of Bonn, remarks:—"It is a vulgar error to suppose that the song of the Nightingale is melancholy, and that it only sings by night. There are two varieties of the Nightingale; one which sings both in the night and the day, and one which sings in the day only."
In the year 1858, Mr. Leigh Sotheby, in a letter to Dr. Gray, of the British Museum, described a marvellous little specimen of the feathered tribe—a Talking Canary. Its parents had previously and successfully reared many young ones, but three years before they hatched only one out of four eggs, the which they immediately neglected, by commencing the rebuilding of a nest on the top of it. Upon this discovery, the unfledged and forsaken bird, all but dead, was taken away and placed in flannel by the fire, when, after much attention, it was restored, and then brought up by hand. Thus treated, and away from all other birds, it became familiarised only with those who fed it; consequently, its first singing notes were of a character totally different to those usual with the Canary.
Constantly being talked to, the bird, when about three months old, astonished its mistress by repeating the endearing terms used in talking to it, such as "Kissie, kissie," with its significant sounds. This went on, and from time to time the little bird repeated other words; and then, for hours together, except during the moulting season, it astonished by ringing the changes, according to its own fancy, and as plainly as any human voice could articulate them, on the several words, "Dear sweet Titchie" (its name), "kiss Minnie," "Kiss me, then, dear Minnie." "Sweet pretty little Titchie," "Kissie, kissie, kissie." "Dear Titchie," "Titchie wee, gee, gee, gee, Titchie. Titchie."
The usual singing-notes of the bird were more of the character of the Nightingale, mingled occasionally with the sound of the dog-whistle used about the house. It is hardly necessary to add, that the bird was by nature remarkably tame.
In 1839, a Canary-bird, capable of distinct articulation, was exhibited in Regent-street. The following were some of its sentences:—"Sweet pretty dear," "Sweet pretty dear Dicky," "Mary," "Sweet pretty little Dicky dear;" and often in the course of the day, "Sweet pretty Queen." The bird also imitated the jarring of a wire, the ringing of a bell; it was three years old, and was reared by a lady who never allowed it to be in the company of other birds. This Canary died in October, 1839; it was, it is believed, the only other talking instance publicly known.
We read of some experiments made in the rearing of birds at Kendal by a bird-fancier, the result of which was, that upwards of 20 birds—Canaries. Greenfinches, Linnets, Chaffinches, Titlarks, and Whitethroats—were reared in one cage by a pair of Canaries. The experiments were continued until the extraordinary number of thirty-eight birds had been brought up within two months by the Canaries. It may be worth while to enumerate them.
In the month of June the Canaries—the male green, and the female piebald—were caged for the purpose of breeding. The female laid five eggs, and while she was sitting a Greenfinch egg was introduced into the nest. All of these were hatched, and the day after incubation was completed five Grey Linnets, also newly hatched, were put into the cage, in their own nest. Next day a newly-hatched nest of four Chaffinches was also introduced; and afterwards five different nests, consisting of six Titlarks, six Whitethroats, three Skylarks, three Winchars, and three Blackcaps. While rearing the last of these nests, the female Canary again laid and hatched four eggs, thus making thirty-eight young birds brought up by the pair of Canaries. It will be noticed that most of these birds are soft-billed, whose natural food is small insects; but they took quite kindly to the seeds upon which they were fed by their step-parents. The pair of Canaries fed at one time twenty-one young birds, and never had less than sixteen making demands upon their care; and while the female was hatching her second nest she continued to feed the birds that occupied the other nest.
Of the origin of the neighing sound which accompanies the single Snipe's play-flight during pairing-time, opinions are various. Bechstein thought it was produced by means of the beak; Naumann and others, again, that it originated in powerful strokes of the wing. Pratt, in Hanover, observing that the bird makes heard its well-known song or cry, which he expresses with the words, "gick jack, gick jack!" at the same time with the neighing sound, it seemed to be settled that the latter is not produced through the throat. In the meantime, M. Meves, of Stockholm, remarked with surprise, that the humming sound could never be observed whilst the bird was flying upwards, at which time the tail is closed; but only when it was casting itself downwards in a slanting direction, with the tail strongly spread out.
M. Meves has written for the Zoological Society a paper upon the origin of this sound, which all the field-naturalists and sportsmen of England and other countries had, for the previous century, been trying to make out, but had failed to discover. Of this paper the following is an abstract:—
The peculiar form of the tail-feathers in some foreign species nearly allied to our Snipe encouraged the notion that the tail conduced to the production of the sound. M. Meves found the tail-feathers of our common Snipe, in the first feather especially, very peculiarly constructed; the shaft uncommonly stiff and sabre-shaped; the rays of the web strongly bound together and very long, the longest reaching nearly three-fourths of the whole length of the web, these rays lying along or spanning from end to end of the curve of the shaft, like the strings of a musical instrument. If you blow from the outer side upon the broad web, it comes into vibration, and a sound is heard, which, though fainter, resembles very closely the well-known neighing.
But to convince yourself fully that it is the first feather which produces the peculiar sound, it is only necessary carefully to pluck out such an one, to fasten its shaft with fine thread to a piece of steel wire a tenth of an inch in diameter, and a foot long, and then to fix this at the end of a four-foot stick. If now you draw the feather, with this outer side forward, sharply through the air, at the same time making some short movements or shakings of the arm, so as to represent the shivering motion of the wings during flight, you produce the neighing sound with the most astonishing exactness.
If you wish to hear the humming of both feathers at once, as must be the case from the flying bird, this also can be managed by a simple contrivance. Take a small stick, and fasten at the side of the smaller end a piece of burnt steel wire in the form of a fork; bind to each point a side tail-feather; bend the wire so that the feathers receive the same direction which they do in the spreading of the tail as the bird sinks itself in flight; and then, with this apparatus, draw the feathers through the air as before. Such a sound, but in another tone, is produced when we experiment with the tail-feathers of other kinds of Snipe.
Since in both sexes these feathers have the same form, it is clear that both can produce the same humming noise; but as the feathers of the hen are generally less than those of the cock-bird, the noise made by them is not so deep as in the other case.
Besides the significance which these tail-feathers have as a kind of musical instrument, their form may give a weighty character in the determination of a species standing very near one another, which have been looked upon as varieties.
This interesting discovery was first announced by M. Meves in an account of the birds observed by himself during a visit to the Island of Gottland, in the summer of the year 1856, which narrative was published at Stockholm in the following winter. In the succeeding summer, M. Meves showed his experiments to Mr. Wolley, whose services to Ornithology we have already noticed. The mysterious noise of the wilderness was reproduced in a little room in the middle of Stockholm: first, the deep bleat, now shown to proceed from the male Snipe, and then the fainter bleat of the female, both most strikingly true to nature, neither producible with any other feathers than the outer ones of the tail.
Mr. Wolley inquired of Mr. Meves how, issuing forth from the town on a summer ramble, he came to discover what had puzzled the wits and strained the eyes of so many observers. He freely explained how, in a number of "Naumannia," an accidental misprint of the word representing tail-feathers instead of wing-feathers,—a mistake which another author ridiculed—first led him to think on the subject. He subsequently examined in the Museum at Stockholm the tail-feathers of various species of Snipe, remarked their structure, and reasoned upon it. Then he blew upon them, and fixed them on levers that he might wave them with greater force through the air; and at the same time he made more careful observation than he had hitherto done in the living birds. In short, in him the obscure hint was thrown upon fruitful ground, whilst in a hundred other minds it had failed to come to light.
Dr. Walsh saw at Constantinople a Woodpecker, about the size of a Thrush, which was very active in devouring flies, and tapped woodwork with his bill with a noise as loud as that of a hammer, to disturb the insects concealed therein, so as to seize upon them when they appeared.
Among remarkable bird services should not be forgotten those of the Trochilos to the Crocodile. "When the Crocodile," says Herodotus, "feeds in the Nile, the inside of his mouth is always covered with bdella (a term which the translators have rendered by that of leech). All birds, except one, fly from the Crocodile; but this one bird, the Trochilos, on the contrary, flies towards him with the greatest eagerness, and renders him a very great service; for every time that the Crocodile comes to the land to sleep, and when he lies stretched out with his jaws open, the Trochilos enters and establishes himself in his mouth, and frees him from the bdella which he finds there. The Crocodile is grateful, and never does any harm to the little bird who performs for him this office."
This passage was long looked upon as a pleasant story, and nothing more; until M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire, during his long residence in Egypt, ascertained the story of Herodotus to be correct in substance, but inexact in details. It is perfectly true that a little bird does exist, which flies incessantly from place to place, searching everywhere, even in the Crocodile's mouth, for the insects which form the principal part of its nourishment. This bird is seen everywhere on the banks of the Nile, and M. Geoffroy has proved it to be of a species already described by Hasselquist, and very like the small winged Plover. If the Trochilos be in reality the little Plover, the bdella cannot be leeches, (which do not exist in the running waters of the Nile) but the small insects known as gnats in Europe. Myriads of these insects dance upon the Nile: they attack the Crocodile upon the inner surface of his palate, and sting the orifice of the glands, which are numerous in the Crocodile's mouth. Then the little Plover, who follows him everywhere, delivers him from these troublesome enemies; and that without any danger to himself, for the Crocodile is always careful, when he is going to shut his mouth, to make some motion which warns the little bird to fly away. At St. Domingo there is a Crocodile which very nearly resembles that of Egypt. This Crocodile is attacked by gnats, from which he would have no means of delivering himself (his tongue, like that of the Crocodile, being fixed) if a bird of a particular species did not give him the same assistance that the Crocodile of the Nile receives from the little Plover. These facts explain the passage in Herodotus, and demonstrate that the animal, there called bdella, is not a leech, but a flying insect similar to our gnat.
Exemplifications of instinct, intelligence, and reason in Birds are by no means rare, but this distinction must be made: instinctive actions are dependent on the nerves, intelligence on the brain; but that which constitutes peculiar qualities of the mind in man has no material organ. The Rev. Mr. Statham has referred to the theory of the facial angle as indicative of the amount of sagacity observable in the animal race, but has expressed his opinion that the theory is utterly at fault in the case of Birds; many of these having a very acute facial angle being considerably more intelligent than others having scarcely any facial angle at all. Size also seems to present another anomaly between the two races of Beasts and Birds; for while the Elephant and the Horse are among the most distinguished of quadrupeds for sagacity and instinct, the larger Birds seem scarcely comparable to the smaller ones in the possession of these attributes. The writer instances this by comparing the Ostrich and the Goose with the Wren, the Robin, the Canary, the Pigeon, and the Crow; and amusingly alludes to the holding of parliaments or convocations of birds of the last species, while the Ostrich is characterised in Scripture as the type of folly.
The author then refers to the poisoning of two young Blackbirds by the parent birds, when they found that they could neither liberate them nor permanently share their captivity. The two fledglings had been taken from a Blackbirds' nest in Surrey-square, and had been placed in a room looking over a garden, in a wicker cage. For some time the old birds attended to their wants, visited them regularly, and fed them with appropriate food; but, at last, getting wearied of the task, or despairing of effecting their liberation, they appear to have poisoned them. They were both found suddenly dead one morning, shortly after having been seen in good health; and on opening their bodies a small leaf, supposed to be that of Solanum Nigrum, was found in the stomach of each. The old birds immediately deserted the spot, as though aware of the nefarious deed befitting their name.
As an exemplification of instinct Dr. Horner states that Rooks built on the Infirmary trees at Hull, but never over the street. One year, however, a young couple ventured to build here: for eight mornings in succession the old Rooks proceeded to destroy the nest, when at last the young ones chose a more fitting place.
Mr. A. Strickland, having referred to the tendency of birds to build their nests of materials of a colour resembling that around such nests, relates an instance in which the Fly-catcher built in a red brick wall, and used for the nest mahogany shavings. Referring to the meeting of Rooks for judicial purposes. Mr. Strickland states that he once saw a Rook tried in this way, and ultimately killed by the rest.